


how tender of us

by badirfilay



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And at the same time, F/F, Feelings Realization, HAROLD THEY'RE LESBIANS, Kyle Rogelio and Lonnie are mentioned but very briefely, Self-Indulgent, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, no beta we die like men, sapphic tenderness, there's some swearing but it's mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badirfilay/pseuds/badirfilay
Summary: Catra discovers feelings as she gets a hug from Adora. Not implicit feelings, but she feels tenderness for what feels like the first time and she has a hard time going through it, because "what is this warmth spreading through my chest?!"or,This is actually a personal story that actually happened and I wanted to explore it.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	how tender of us

**Author's Note:**

> I want to first let ya'll know this is the first fic I write, so be gentle with me :)  
> Also, I wanna dedicate this to the most important person in my life (my friend, then my girlfriend, now my friend). When I first mentioned this memory to her she was baffled and didn't remember it, and that made me realize how stupid I used to be lol  
> Basically our whole lives could turn into one hell of a multi-chapter 200k massive friends to lovers epic love story fanfiction, but we'll start with this lol
> 
> anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Yeah.

  
So.

She still remembers it. Almost all of it. Some sounds, some images. (Most sounds, most images. The important ones.) She distinctively remembers how _feelings_ were being _felt._ It had felt ridiculous, then, and it still does today. A little. Mostly today, of all the days, it feels painful but that’s a conversation for a different time.

  
Today she revels in the memory of tenderness. Warmth. Perhaps it being felt for the first time, being directed at her, coming from _her_. She vaguely reminds herself that warmth and love and tenderness had, most likely, already been shown to her before, by a family member or other, in one way or another, but she shoves that thought aside for now because if she can’t quite as easily remember any of those times, were they really that important at all?  
Today she tries to recreate the scene in her head. She can’t, she knows this. She is probably filling some things in, but that’s… okay. That’s how memories work right? So she fills some gaps, connects some dots – if forcefully – and she lays the event out in her mind.

  
Catra watches it unfold inside her own head, as a spectator to her own life.

-

They’re standing at the side of the road, just a little further ahead of the school, at their usual positioning for these things: Catra, grumpily waiting for her mom’s car to show up. Adora, brightly waiting with her, excited about something Catra does actually care a lot about but can’t bring herself to show it. The rest of the group – Catra tries not to chastise herself for referring to them as the “rest” but is she really, exactly, to blame here? – waiting with them, for lack of more entertaining activities. Lonnie just beside Catra, arms crossed like she’s pissed at something (which she probably was, as was her standard mood), Kyle and Rogelio just a little off to the side of the circle, talking animatedly about what seems to be – to Catra’s uninterested ears – the latest school gossip.

  
School had probably sucked that day. She remembers being in a mood of some sort. As was, also, her default back then. She wonders how much of that was related to the distance between her and Adora, on the sidewalk, which had seemed to be dispensable back in class, when they were seated so close to each other? That thought hadn’t actually crossed past Catra’s mind – it wouldn’t for quite a few years down the road – but it did occur again now to future (present?) Catra, just how many times was her grumpiness related to whatever distance, physical or emotional, she and Adora had put between themselves out of commodity? Habit? Ignorance?

  
How many times had they reveled in each other’s touches, drowning in innocence, thinking that it was normal, when it actually hadn’t been? How many hand massages were exchanged before either of them realized it made their armpits sweat in the cold? How many _back massages_? She knows it’s many, many more than she has the memory to count. She understands now what those meant, but they really didn’t know, okay? Or, at least, Catra didn’t. Didn’t understand, didn’t see it in any other way than simply appreciating and accepting a friend. How many of those did she ever had anyway, for comparison? Not a single one as good as Adora. As gentle. As kind. As funny. Or as fun and easy to be around. As in tune to Catra’s vibration? No, Adora was special, so why should she ever come to realize that their touches were even more special? It’s not entirely her fault, what with family and society highly critical of all things queer, she wasn’t about to just delve right into that train of thought, was she? The point is Catra didn’t know.

  
Didn’t know she could even feel what she felt that day, and at such a minuscule thing compared to everything that happened after, but still, that day it was a monumental occasion to her. Didn’t know Adora could make her feel those things, just with her voice. Seriously, what the fuck?

  
“It was Jessica, I know it was” Catra vaguely hears Kyle tell Rogelio, as Lonnie huffs in response. “She had his number, anyway, it’s not such a stretch, Rogelio. You know this.”

  
She doesn’t respond to it. She is prone to groaning in the middle of the street, with not much of a reason, except for a vague sentiment of **grumpy** (which was a near constant). But today, when she actually does have a reason, she surprisingly doesn’t feel angry, as much as she feels… tired? She is feeling so sleepy. Maybe the remains of a boring class, perhaps she had pulled an all nighter, or maybe she was coming up with something. Fact remains, her eyes were dry. Like a desert. Her eyelids were heavy. So heavy. Too heavy. The conversation in the background already forgotten as she tried to steady herself. It wasn’t the first time she was feeling like complete shit after school, but it was the first time (that she remembers) that she was feeling (what she would later be able to tell was) cuddly. She had probably always been a cuddly person but had just never realized it, but that day her body was feeling weird, and as her eyes were doing whatever, her mouth yawning, her hands had come up to rub at her eyes. She was probably rubbing a little too hard, but she was feeling very tired. She hadn’t registered right away that she was pouting but she very quickly caught up to it when Adora came to stand right in front of her and said…

  
“Aww, Catra. Are you feeling tired?” With a tone that Catra will remember for the rest of her life.

  
She doesn’t fully comprehend why such simple words had such an affect on her, but she knows that the tenderness she heard from Adora was the culprit of Catra’s reaction.  
Adora also had a look on her face that screamed of love and care, even if a bit playful. Her mouth was pouting, her eyebrows lifted, eyes almost watering as if she was poking at Catra for being tired but Catra knew (could feel within) that there wasn’t a sliver of malice in that face. Barely even, ever, in that whole person.

  
So it wasn’t such a strange thing for friends to comfort friends, and for friends to feel comforted when they were feeling down, but, again… Catra wasn’t used to this.

  
Her home life was pretty laid back, lazy even. Her family lived in a comfortable apartment, her dad had a comfortable paycheck, her mom had a comfortable schedule. Catra’s own schedule pretty much left for her to organize (which had apparently been a problem for the development of responsibility but whatever). Not so comfortable were the nights (every night) that her dad came home drunk out of his mind. Not the nights (not every night) when he was screaming his lungs out about whatever had pissed him off that day. Not comfortable the times when her parents screamed at each other for whatever they had done to piss off one another (she tried not to pay attention to the details of those). Her home was not that bad, truthfully, but it also didn’t scream emotional comfort. Didn’t necessarily scream tenderness and loving, acceptance and snuggles. So it makes sense that she never came to expect any of that from anyone. She had never even realized that was a problem, not until many, many, years later.

  
So, her reaction made complete sense, if you were to analyze it from outside of her mind, but, alas, Catra had no way of being outside of herself through all of that, so she went through it in confusion. First confusion to a person being tuned to her mood enough to understand she was feeling down, second confusion to the tone that was used directed at her, without any malice, just (that word again) tenderness.

  
It made her feel warm.

Like, actually warm. In her chest.

Which was odd.

She suddenly felt very much awake. Which was also odd.

Comprehensive speech apparently left her body when it got too hot, because she could only reply with a whiny “Mmhumm.” Which was not the smartest answer but it did the trick (even if there was no attempt at “tricks”), Adora responded with another “Aaaw” that made Catra’s chest tight again, but not as tight as when she realized there were arms around her, crushing, and then “you’re so cute” and yes, your honor, she died. Right there. Body gone, soul in heaven, dead. There was no reason to feel the way she did, to react the way her body reacted, specially since a second later, the warmth was gone, Adora’s arms gone back to rest at her sides, one hand clutching her bag, and no apparent mirth or even any intent of any kind on her face. It was nothing. A casual interaction.

It should’ve been nothing. It would have been nothing, probably, had Catra grown in a more loving home, but she hadn’t, and here she was. Suffering internally with the strange sensations of being (barely) cared for and, God forbid, _hugged_.

  
Still, almost ten fucking years later and the memory was still vivid in her mind. Branded like a tattoo across her brain.

-

Back in the future - the present, whatever - she was better understanding of her young self’s confusion. It still made her feel a bit silly, that such an innocent and inconsequential interaction had shook her so bad the memory still lingered vividly. She was bullshitting before, that she was filling in gaps… she wasn’t really. The scenario could’ve taken place anywhere else; her feelings were still bright as clear summer skies. It brought her to giggles each time she reminisced. Young minds can be so thick, sometimes. And so pure, even when a bit damaged.

  
After that little show of her inability with emotions, it took them about two years and a massive fight with later some dumb apology Tumblr post to get them together. They’d be together for a long time still.

  
It may not have started that day. Or, rather, Catra may not have realized that it had started that day. But the truth is that in that day, after that hug, after that tiny demonstration of care and affection, she could only really think (deep down, hidden away) “I need more of that” and “I need more of you”.

  
How very tender of them.

\----

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading it!!!!!  
> Comments will be greatly appreciated as I absolutely CRAVE validation.


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